Ghosts of the Past
by TheFrankMaster
Summary: I've been assigned to investigate the rumors surrounding Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. The murders that apparently happen during the night may have a supernatural cause, and if so, it's my job to stop it. Because that's what we do at the Agency.
1. Just another assignment

**IMPORTANT MESSAGE: This story does NOT feature FNAF3, FNAF4 or FNAF: Sister Location.**

 **UPDATE: I made a minor change. Just below the title of this chapter, the main character informs you of his name and age. I did this because I plan to make more stories with the Agency in the future, and in some cases with different characters.**

* * *

 _Chapter one: Just another assignment_

My name is Bryan Roth. I am 31 years old.

I was walking through the doors of the Agency Headquarters as I had done many times before. Going through the hallway that followed, my hand automatically reached inside my pocket, taking out my ID and allowing the guy behind the desk on my right to scan it, confirming my status as a Special Agent at the place. I waited a few seconds for him to return the ID, which he did shortly after scanning it, giving me a nod.

I nodded back as I took what was mine before resuming my walk. This building being as secure as it is, we have to make sure that no unauthorized people walk in. Apparently, asking for an ID to scan isn't enough, so they placed a door between this hallway and the lobby that required another scan with the very same object.

After opening the door and stuffing the ID back into my pocket, I entered the lobby of the building. Looking around, I attempted to find a certain person waiting for me somewhere in this room. I couldn't find her at first, until she came walking towards me.

"Morning," she said. I simply gave her a nod in response.

"You said that McDonald had another job for us?" I reminded her. She nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "Though he didn't tell me much yet. He wanted me to wait for you so he wouldn't have to explain it twice."

"Understandable," I said as I started walking towards my boss' office, with the woman coming along.

This woman, Special Agent Amelia Watts, was my partner at the Agency. Unlike me, she didn't try to hide her emotions and was optimistic about things. Her positive attitude, combined with her cheerful and friendly personality, made her seem like she was my absolute opposite. Despite this, she was still a good friend to me.

Me, Special Agent Bryan Roth, I prefer to keep my emotions hidden. I always tried not to be too harsh when dealing with people, but my somewhat cold and emotionless behavior apparently made me seem like a rather unpleasant person. And then there were my… anger issues. It's not that I'm angered easily, but rage is the only emotion I show when my buttons are pushed too hard.

I've always been like that since… _that_ day.

I opened the door to Jax McDonald's office, revealing the man in question looking up from his desk at me, his stern black eyes looking into mine. He was bent over what seemed to be a newspaper on his desk, but sat up straight as soon as he saw me.

"Special Agents," he said. "Come in and take a seat. I have another assignment for you two."

"So we heard, sir," Watts said as she complied. I closed the door behind us and approached one of the chairs in front of McDonald's desk. He began to speak once I was seated.

"What do you know about the rumors surrounding Freddy Fazbear's?" he immediately asked. I gave him a dumb look, not knowing what he was talking about. Fortunately, Watts answered instead.

"Freddy Fazbear's? That pizza place for kids? People say five children disappeared in 1987 and that the robots kill the night guards in a painful and horrible way."

The way she said that was calm, casual and professional like it was supposed to be here at the Agency. We still work for the government, so there's no screaming or informal ways of conversation.

"Correct," McDonald said. "They say that the robots have been possessed by the ghosts of those dead children. So far, we believed that these rumors are false, since there was nothing that indicated anything like murder." He grabbed the paper he was reading before and handed it to me. I looked at him for a moment before reading it.

 _CHILDREN DISAPPEARED AT FREDDY FAZBEAR'S_

 _10-13-1987 – This day, five children have been reported missing at Freddy Fazbear's without a trace. The parents have reported seeing their child following what seemed to be an old, golden version of the main animatronic of the pizzeria, Freddy Fazbear. The police are investigating the disappearances, but only few clues has been found as of yet. The owner of Freddy Fazbears refuses to take responsibility for what happened and what will happen to the victims. The following is a list of the missing children:_

 _Rhys Harvey, six years old, black hair, green eyes._

 _Benjamin Fulton, seven years old, light brown hair, hazel eyes._

 _Anne Martin, four years old, light blonde hair, maroon eyes._

 _Oliver Houghton, six years old, dark brown hair, green eyes._

 _Chris Garcia, seven years old, dark blonde hair, hazel eyes._

"How does this help us?" I asked as I gave the paper to Watts. McDonald immediately reached into one of his drawers, pulling out another news article and giving it to me.

 _INCIDENT AT FREDDY FAZBEAR'S_

 _11-13-1987 – This morning, an incident occurred at the famous pizzeria known as Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, involving one of the animatronics attacking one of the guards, Jeremy Fitzgerald. The animatronic, known as Foxy, or otherwise Mangle, had approached the guard and bit him in his head, resulting in severe damage in the victim's frontal lobe. After one of the mechanics managed to shut Foxy down, the police and an ambulance were called. Fitzgerald has been taken into medical care, and the pizzeria will be out of business._

"With all due respect, sir, this does not answer my question," I said as I handed this paper to Watts.

"There are possibilities that the incidents are connected," McDonald explained patiently. "The dead children causing that last incident, the Bite of '87, is a commonly believed theory among the people who know about this."

"But there's nothing to prove it," Watts commented as she kept looking at the articles in her hands. McDonald looked at her.

"Except that the disappearances haven't stopped," he darkly said. Watts looked at him with a surprised and confused look. I did the same, but with less… emotion.

"We've sent one of our agents to do some minor research," McDonald said. "It seems that the majority of the night guards from that place went missing as well. When questioning the families of some of the victims, they said that the guards were nervous whenever they returned from work. The nervousness would increase drastically the next few days, after which the night guards would never be seen again."

I briefly looked at Watts, then back at McDonald. "You're saying that the rumors are true? That the deceased children are killing night guards?" I guessed. He shook his head.

"I'm not saying anything just yet. Maybe the robots are alive of their own and they just want to protect the children that go there during the day. Maybe there's another party trying to frame Fazbear's. Maybe the guards have been sucked into another dimension and are now enjoying a much-needed vacation there." He leaned forward. "It doesn't matter what I think," he said. "It's your job to find out the truth."

It was silent for a moment as McDonald looked us in the eyes. Most new agents would say that he looks like an asshole, but Watts and I know better. Our boss was patient and supporting, he just didn't show it that much. Kind of like me.

I stood up. "Then we need to go to work," I said. Watts got up as well, and we both walked towards the office's exit. I opened the door for Watts, and was just about to leave myself, when McDonald spoke up again.

"Find out the truth, Agent Roth," he said. "Ghosts or not, the supernatural are our specialty here at the Agency. This is what we do."

I didn't look back as I left.


	2. Infiltration

_Chapter two: Infiltration_

Watts and I were currently staying at a hotel that was rather close to Freddy Fazbear's, thinking of a plan to infiltrate the pizzeria. There was no going there on official business: the FBI had tried it several times, but never found any evidence linked to the disappearances. The manager had hidden it very well.

Our current plan was simple: I was going to apply to the position of night guard and bring evidence of the robots moving at night. Said evidence would consist of footage from a mini camera I was going to take with me.

Before we were going to use it to get the manager into jail for covering up murder – if that's what really happened at night – we had to find and stop the force behind the killings. To do that, we had to find out if there were any night guards who had survived the ordeal. They may have important information. It was a longshot, but there was a chance.

Lastly, we were going to question the manager, and possibly some other employees. They had to know more, and we had the intention of finding out what it was. Getting information from them was likely not going to be easy, so it's a good thing that it was one of our specialties.

So far, Watts had disagreed with only one part of the plan: me infiltrating Freddy's. Apparently, she didn't want me to get myself into a possibly life threatening situation, and I could understand her fear. But I wasn't going to let her go in there, either.

"It's better if I go," I reasoned. "If we were to look back at our previous experiences, I appear to be less susceptible to fear."

It was true. Whenever we were in a stressful situation, Watts was the first to – for the lack of a better term – panic. She never really screamed, but terror would be visible in her eyes. When I was afraid, I usually managed to keep a cooler head. Working at Freddy's as the night guard seemed like something that would cause panic to most people, and even if I would lose my cool there, it wouldn't be as bad as it would be with Watts.

She wasn't going to let all this stop her, however. She kept arguing with me about it, until I reminded her that we needed to keep things professional. It was simply more logical that I would go.

She wasn't happy with it, but didn't continue to protest.

* * *

 **10:00 am**

The greetings I received when walking through the doors of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza consisted of music, noisy children with a severe lack of decent manners and a floor stained with pizza. Once inside, I spotted the door to the manager's office with relative ease. I also saw the animatronics perform on the somewhat small stage, their appearance as disturbing as they were on the pictures on the newspaper articles. Lastly, there were closed curtains with a purple color and a sign in front of it, which indicated that whatever was behind there was no longer operational.

After I finally managed to make my way through the horde of hyperactive children to the manager's office, I knocked on the door thrice. The newspaper with the advertisement for the night guard position crackled slightly as I dug my fingertips into it, as I suddenly realized that the man I was going to talk to had been hiding the killings for as long as he has owned the place. Criminal actions such as covering up murders for one's own selfish purposes – in this case to make money and avoid justice – disgusted me to no end.

I did not accept the job at the Agency to exact vengeance for what those supernatural forces did to my family long ago. I knew that not all paranormal phenomena were malevolent, although many were. The reason why I always get jobs like these is because McDonald says that I keep an open mind and that makes me 'the ultimate detective'. Most other, non-malevolent cases are left to less experienced Agents, as those are less urgent than mysterious deaths at the hands of evil spirits.

"Come in," a voice from the other side of the door I knocked on called out.

I opened the door to reveal a small office with a rather corpulent man with green eyes and black hair with a few gray stripes. He looked up at me with a jovial expression on his face, but I was not easily fooled: this man likely considered everyone but himself expendable. I was just another tool to him, ready to be thrown away once I was used too often and eventually fail in my purpose. Of course I couldn't see all that in his eyes, but if one would be aware that he covered up murder for profit, it wouldn't be difficult to put two and two together to reveal his true nature.

Despite my hidden anger, I politely showed him the paper with the advertisement. Upon seeing it, he was willing to talk. We shook hands, sat down, and the job interview began. It wasn't difficult for me; I had done many job interviews like this, most times for the very same goal: infiltration. I could be a smooth talker if I needed to be, and convincing this man to employ me was – for a lack of a better term – easy.

Once the interview was over, the manager – Owen Stone – proceeded to show me how to do my job. He led me to the office on the other side of the building, where he showed me how to keep the robbers at bay if necessary by using two metal doors on both sides of the office that would block the way between said office and the hallways that connected with it.

When that was done, he gave me the uniform, the badge, the name tag and the equipment belt. He told me nothing about the robots, much to my well-hidden abhorrence. However, I strongly suspected that the doors in the office were not meant to keep out burglars…

* * *

 **11:15 pm**

I reentered Freddy's for my new job, not a single part of my body indicating that I was afraid. Therefore, one can say that appearances can be deceiving, as my fear was real and present. The ability to feel this emotion had diminished after many cases involving dangerous paranormal phenomena, but it never truly left me. And now here I was, walking straight into what could be my last moments.

There were still a few janitors and a guard working for the evening. I greeted them politely, and they returned the favor before quickly resuming their respective jobs. They were gone by 11:50, leaving me to lock the doors and go to my office.

I was ready for whatever was going to come at me.


	3. Avoiding death

**Sorry for the lack of originality and/or suspense in this chapter. I have no decent excuse…**

* * *

 _Chapter three: Avoiding death_

 **12:00 am**

I was sitting in the office, watching the well-known animatronics on the screen of the tablet in my hands and waiting for any sign that would indicate that they were after my blood. I had put the mini camera in my pocket before entering Freddy's, making sure that it wouldn't be easily noticed by anyone who would like to stand in my way of doing my real job: finding sufficient evidence for Mr. Stone to be sued and be put behind bars, along with finding a way to end the reign of terror that was hiding inside this building.

Knowing I couldn't stare at the monitor for long without wasting power and handing my own life on a silver platter to the robots, I reluctantly deactivated it and put it back on the desk. I then reached into my pocket and pulled out the mini camera, ready to activate it if – or when – necessary.

I jumped when the phone rang.

I reached out to said phone and turned on the speaker, causing a voice to erupt from it.

 _"_ _Hello, hello?"_

"Hello-" I began, when the caller interrupted.

 _"_ _Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night."_

Right. A message. I leaned back in my chair, suddenly feeling stupid for thinking that someone would actually call at this hour. However, the lack of self-respect got pushed back into my mind when I realized that this may be it: the evidence. I should activate my camera now. There was nothing to see, but what this person had to say might be interesting.

I quickly pressed the _record_ button on the mini camera. It gave a small red light in response, telling me that it was active.

 _"_ _Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?"_

I listened with half an ear as the guy on the phone started to talk about introductions, respecting the animatronics and all other kinds of irrelevant – excuse my language – crap. The interesting part was, however, something about missing person reports, carpets being bleached and…well… _evidence being hidden_ if I were to die. Surely, the company wouldn't have allowed the man to say that if it was not true.

That was not everything, however…

 _"_ _So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?"_

The Bite of '87? Was that not the subject of the article my boss gave me when he gave Watts and me the assignment? And then there was something about dead children as well…

 _Uh, now concerning your safety, the only_ real _risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh._

I almost chuckled. This wasn't just evidence: this man was handing to me the knowledge I needed to have to solve this case. My tendency to chuckle vanished as quick as it came, seeing that a voice on the phone was nothing solid. I needed to make sure the camera saw the robots move.

This message did emphasize the possibility for the rumors to be true, however.

 _Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night._

I shut the camera off, grabbed the tablet, activated it and checked the Show Stage. No movement as of yet. I changed the feed to Pirate Cove – which I knew held an animatronic as well – but the curtains were still very much closed.

 **1:00 am**

I had been taking glances at the camera feed now and then, but no activity had occurred. This increased my fear, yet it also increased my suspicion that it was completely fake. As I leaned back in my chair slightly, wondering what to do if this was the case. Was I going to let this go and dismiss every clue so far – the dead children, the Bite of '87, the missing night guards – as something that shouldn't be listened to? Where else could those guards have gone? Surely, they wouldn't all have left their families so that they can live the rest of their lives alone on some island?

However, when I checked the cameras again, all my skepticism was removed in an instant and I sat up in my chair, my eyes wide. One of the animatronics had disappeared from the Show Stage. I was certain that there were three before, and now only the bear and the chicken remained.

Afraid, I switched to the Dining Room feed, where I saw the rather voluminous purple bunny animatronic: Bonnie. Upon seeing the thing standing in the room with the mobility of a statue, I flinched. Fortunately, I wasn't prone to shouting or panicking, so no noise could be heard in or outside the office I was sitting in. I doubted that it would make a difference; these robots likely already know the entire layout of the restaurant, including the usual location of the night guards. This was not good.

Bonnie remained unmoving after that, but I kept a close eye on him and the other three animatronics.

 **2:00 am**

I was shocked to find the purple rabbit gone from the Dining Area, only to be partially relieved once more when I spotted him Backstage, where spare parts for the animatronics were stored. Bonnie stood in the shadows next to the table, staring at the camera with his robotic, unchanging expression.

I quickly checked the Show Stage and found the yellow bird – Chica – missing now as well, only to find her in the Dining Room where Bonnie found himself in minutes ago. After taking a quick look at Pirate Cove, I was certain that the bunny and the chicken were the only ones I had to worry about for now.

But for how long…?

 **3:00 am**

Bonnie and Chica had moved once more, this time closer to my office. Bonnie was in the West Hallway (near camera 2A) while Chica was in the East (near camera 4A) – likely a tactic to catch me more easily. As I felt the sweat that had been present on the back of my neck increase in quantity, I made sure to keep a close eye on them and use the monitor more often while still conserving my power to the best of my ability.

Speaking of my power, I could see how much I had left in the bottom left corner of the tablet I was holding to keep these murderous monstrosities in my sights. Currently, it was at 72%, which was good. I had used it sparingly enough to be able to use it at a later time during the night. I had already passed half my shift, but not half my power.

I flinched when I saw that the rabbit had disappeared from camera 2A, only to meet his seemingly angry stare at camera 2B, right next to my office. Knowing that I would not be safe for long if I were to keep this door open, I quickly pressed the left _door_ -button. A piece of rectangular metal came crashing down in the doorway, separating me from Bonnie. Immediately after that, his face appeared in the left window, staring at me with his lifeless eyes.

My breathing slightly increased in rapidity and fear boiled in my stomach, making me feel sick. Ignoring it, I changed the camera feed to camera 4A – the first part of the East Hallway – to see that Chica had approached the camera and had her beak wide open, revealing the robot's endoskeleton teeth.

 **4:00 am**

It was good that I conserved the power when I did. Bonnie did not leave quickly, instead standing at my door for nearly an hour. He eventually left, but my power had been drained to 60%. Of course it was probably still enough, but I needed everything that could help me.

I instantly closed the east door after seeing Chica standing at camera 4B, directly outside my office. So far, I had made sure to record everything relevant on my camera, and I made sure that these robots moving around did not go unnoticed by the small but oh-so-useful piece of technology. I did have to make a mental note, however, to hide it when I was done to prevent anyone from spotting it and report it to Mr. Stone. There was nobody I could trust that worked here at Freddy's except for myself, and this was not even my real job.

Chica was gone quicker than Bonnie, leaving me with a 55% power storage.

 **5:00 am**

It would seem that the two robots had withdrawn after knowing that their tactic was flawed, seeing that Chica seemed to be in the Kitchen and Bonnie in the Backstage area. This was rather convenient for me, since I was starting to get tired and by extent less alert. In addition, my power was no longer draining as much as it was when the doors had to be closed.

I checked Pirate Cove and the Show Stage as well, and was relieved to see the curtains shut and the bear unmoving.

 **6:00 am**

The bell rang, alerting me that I had reached the end of my shift for tonight and relieving me from some of the terror that had plagued my mind. To make sure said terror was entirely gone, Watts and I were going to have to shut Freddy's down, bring the manager to justice and stop whatever was truly guilty for those disappearances – or perhaps I should say murders.

Checking the cameras to be sure that I was safe, I saw Bonnie and Chica back on the stage alongside Freddy, who had not moved the entire night. I switched to Pirate Cove once more to confirm the unknown animatronic's inactivity, and saw that the curtains were still nice and shut.

I made sure to turn off the mini camera before stuffing it back into my pocket. When that was done, I walked towards the entrance, passing the morning guard as I did.

Something else weighed on my mind, however: Watts. If I told her the robots really were after me, she would likely be extremely worried and make sure I was alright, both physically and mentally. Of course, this was not my first time in a life-threatening situation with more powerful beings near me, but she will be worried nevertheless. Easing her mind always took a while, but given my experience to do so in the past, we will be busy going over the evidence and investigating more of the phenomena at Freddy's within…say…twenty minutes after I reenter the room we stay in.

Regardless, I needed to know more of what had happened tonight. And I was going to get the information we need, no matter how.


	4. Interrogation

_Chapter four: Interrogation _

After finally having assured Watts that I'm okay, she revealed to me that she had done some additional research and found something that could be of significant help to our investigation. She had contacted one of our colleagues at the Agency, who was more than willing to rip some direct clues from Owen Stone's database. Using his advanced knowledge of hacking, he sent the information to Watts' phone without leaving any trace on Stone's computer.

The data included files of the night guards, of which most were 'missing'. However, after looking through them, Watts found the name of a guard who had managed to survive his ordeal at Freddy's before somehow escaping the grasp of the company. According to the rest of his file, he had made several attempts to investigate the murders on his own, but eventually discontinued the hunt – likely to make sure that Stone wouldn't 'shut him up'. The file said that Schmidt had already received a 'warning' from the manager.

The guard's name was Michael Schmidt. He started working on November 8, 1993, and was fired after seven days due to tampering with the animatronics, general unprofessionalism and odor. Personally, I couldn't blame him for any of those things, but those complacent rapscallions at Fazbear Entertainment apparently thought that he wasn't good enough for masterfully evading a group of murderous, possibly possessed robots.

Regardless, we needed to find this man. If his investigations turned out to be worth something, then we needed to know it. The file informed us of – among other things that could prove dangerous if it were to fall in the wrong hands – Schmidt's address.

I wanted to pay the man a visit immediately after my nap, until Watts reminded me that Stone likely held valuable information as well. I told her it was too dangerous, and that we didn't know how powerful Fazbear Entertainment really was – they had been watching Schmidt closely to make sure that he wouldn't resume his investigations. She told me, however, that if we suspected anything was wrong, we could contact the Agency, the FBI or even the local PD. Her plan was that I would go to Schmidt while she interrogated Stone, since he didn't know her yet. I reluctantly agreed.

* * *

I arrived at the address I was looking for, and was just about to ring the bell next to the wooden door when a click from the other side could be heard. My hand froze in mid-air as a man who seemed somewhere in his fifties revealed himself. His bright blue eyes looked at me with a stern expression, yet I could feel some anxiety behind them as well. I could not blame him, as surviving five nights with supernatural murderous robots must have taken a heavy toll on his mind. It was likely that he had developed a post-traumatic stress disorder – PTSD – during the ordeal, which meant that I would have to choose my words carefully if I were to extract any information from him.

"Mr. Schmidt?" I assumed. "Michael Schmidt?"

The man glared at me. "If you're here to ask about my job at Freddy's I had years ago, save your breath!"

"Special Agent Bryan Roth, I'm with the FBI," I calmly lied as I showed him my ID. Every agent from the Agency had legitimate ID's from several other agencies. This had two reasons: it would keep the secret that the Agency existed, and…well…the reason why most agents have their ID, really; to convince someone to cooperate with them.

The man checked the ID before glaring back at me once more. "What do you want, Agent?"

My calm, stoic expression did not change as I stuffed the ID back into my pocket. "We are aware of the unexplained disappearances at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. With your help, we may be able to stop whatever causes this and shut Fazbear Entertainment down for good."

More anger and fear appeared in Schmidt's eyes. "I want nothing to do with that! Leave me alone!"

He tried to shut the door, but my reflexes and strength were decent enough to stop it from closing. I looked at him, still showing no emotions.

"Refusing to cooperate with us is not an option, Mr. Schmidt," I calmly reasoned. "If you want the animatronics and the manager to be defeated, we can help and protect you."

I waited for his response. Through the small opening, I could see that his expression had turned from angry to thoughtful. I knew he was sitting with a dilemma now: he can risk his life by helping us, or ensure his safety without the killings stopping. Eventually, however, his true morals apparently made an appearance, as his eyes softened and he opened the door.

"F-fine…" he said. "But if Stone finds out about this, I'm a dead man."

"Which is the reason why we're not letting Stone find out about this," I simply said.

* * *

Schmidt's house was small and didn't have the greatest luxury. Nevertheless, it was decent enough for a man to live in, I suppose. The living room – which also served as his dining room – had a chair, a couch and a table. There were two doors, which likely led to his bedroom and the bathroom.

Schmidt sat down in the chair and urged me to sit on the couch. I did as I was told, eager to find out what kind of information I would be able to get out of this man. Michael Schmidt, who should've been recognized as one of the few – if not the only – night guard at Freddy's who managed to survive.

I did need to keep in mind, however, that he was probably still traumatized. An experience like the one he had gone through was not something you'd just walk off and be done with. I didn't want to be responsible for putting him through the memories that had tortured him for so many years now, simply because he applied for a job as a night guard at a children's pizza place.

He folded his hands. "Alright, let's just do this…" he looked up at me. "Ask your questions. I'll tell you what I know."

"Thank you. But do not feel obliged to answer if you don-"

"Got it, got it, but I think you'll need all the help you can get if you want to stop these things from continuing their killing spree."

"Right…" I said, slightly taken aback upon hearing how much this person was actually determined to assist in ending the homicides. "First of all, do you know what is the driving force behind the murders?"

The older man took a breath, briefly closed his blue eyes before opening them again, anxiously rubbing his hands.

"Well…" he began. "Back in '87, a bunch of kids were murdered."

"I am aware. And we have already set connections between the deceased children and the animatronics' ability to move on their own."

Schmidt blinked and gave me a weird look. "You know that the robots are possessed?"

"So far, it is only a theory," I said.

The man shook his head. "No," he disagreed. "No it isn't."

I gave him a questioning look. He looked down.

"They…spoke to me."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"On the seventh night," Schmidt shakily said. "They described the murder in detail – if only to intimidate me." He looked at me again. "They can't think correctly or something. They always think the night guard is the killer."

"According to your file, you tampered with the animatronics on your seventh night," I skeptically said. The older man scoffed.

"Suppose that's one way to put communicating with dead children that possess those things," he sarcastically replied. "Really, I was glad when they threw me out."

"According to your file, you had also attempted to investigate the matter on your own. It does not say what you found out, which is why I'm here." I leaned forward. "Do you know who the killer is, Mr. Schmidt?"

He nodded. "Yes," he answered. "The dead children kept calling me 'Afton'. After some research, I found out that Afton was one of the co-founders of Freddy's and later had his name changed to Dave Miller."

My eyebrows shot up. "So you're saying that one of Freddy's original owners was the killer?"

"No." Schmidt leaned forward. "I'm not saying that he _was_ the killer; I'm saying that he _is_ the killer."


	5. Two birds with one stone

**Hey, fellows! As you can see, I've uploaded a new cover for this story. My brother helped me make it using his mad skills. Tell me what you think: do you prefer the older cover or this one?**

* * *

 _Chapter five: Two birds with one stone_

Schmidt and I were sitting in the hotel room Watts and I were staying at, waiting for my colleague to return from her interrogation. After trying to reassure both me and Schmidt that Watts can take care of herself, I was secretly relieved when the door to our room opened, revealing an enraged Watts. We stood up as she walked in.

"How did the interrogation go?" I asked.

"That creep was _flirting_ with me!" she exclaimed with anger. "He's twice my age! How dare he! If we're going to shoot him, _I'll_ be the one who pulls the trigger!"

"You'll have to get in line," I calmly said as I gestured towards Schmidt. "This is Michael Schmidt. If anyone is going to shoot Stone, I would say it should be him."

Watts froze upon seeing our guest, before calming down and holding out her hand for him to shake, giving a friendly smile.

"Special Agent Amelia Watts," she said. "Sorry for my outburst just now, Mr. Schmidt."

"Don't worry 'bout it," the older man responded as he shook her hand. "I'll let you shoot him anyway."

Watts chuckled. "Thank you, sir."

He smiled and gave her a nod before they both turned to me.

"What've we got?" Watts asked. In response, I walked to the table where I had momentarily put our evidence and sat in one of the nearby chairs.

"Mr. Schmidt had informed me of the killer's identity," I said. "He was initially known as William Afton, cofounder of Freddy's before changing his name to Dave Miller. He was suspected of the murders, but insufficient evidence was found, allowing him to evade justice. This was a dark time for Freddy's and it could barely stand on its feet. Both the murders and the Bite took place at the second location, which closed down following the incidents."

"Stone mentioned something like that," Watts said. "They were able to save some money they gained at that second location. After selling the new animatronics and getting a new budget, they decided to go back to the first location – which is the currently active one."

"Indeed," I affirmed. "However, despite the decent amount of information we have obtained, we do not know where Afton is. If we would be able to find him, maybe we could use him to end the killings."

"But we still don't know enough about the ghosts themselves," Watts objected. "Who knows what will happen if they kill him; what if that doesn't work?"

"Then we need to convince them to forgive him. That will most certainly work."

"That won't be easy – even if Afton were to show regret."

"Excuse me," Schmidt suddenly intervened. We looked at him, which he took as a signal to continue.

"Maybe we should find Afton first, _then_ worry about what to do. See if he's still so happy with what he did."

A silence fell. Watts opened her mouth and inhaled, about to say something. She froze, and then said it anyway.

"That…that is a good idea."

"But how are we going to find him?" I asked. "I doubt even Stone knows where he is."

"Maybe I can ask Bob to do us another favor," Watts suggested. "He's helped before."

Bob. Agent Bob Gardner. He was one of the Agency's hacking specialists. He had helped us on several occasions, including the one where we needed to get Schmidt's file. He was the one who hacked into Stone's database without leaving a trace. Maybe he could do it again.

I nodded. "Do it. If we can do this, we can end the killings and put the ones responsible behind bars."

Watts smiled once more. "Two birds with one stone."


	6. Afton

**IMPORTANT MESSAGE:**

 **Before you start reading, allow me to remind you that this is an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! This means that many things in this story differ from the actual FNaF story. THE WAY I'M GOING TO END THIS STORY AND HOW AFTON WILL BE PICTURED WILL BE** ** _VERY_** **DIFFERENT FROM THE GAMES AND THE OFFICIAL BOOK, so be warned!**

 **Don't complain about things being different, fellows!**

 **~F**

* * *

 _Chapter six: Afton _

Good news: Agent Gardner was successful in breaking into Stone's database and stole Afton's file after some searching. Bad news: my drowsiness finally got the better of me. So far, I had managed to remain awake by having slept right before my first shift at Freddy's, combined with an unhealthy amount of coffee and some other caffeinated beverages.

That turned out to be insufficient, however, seeing how my usually stoic face apparently betrayed my lack of decent rest lately. That, or Watts knew me too well, as she insisted I get some shut-eye. Of course, I tried to protest; and, of course, it was all in vain.

Wanting to get to Afton as soon as possible, I knew that the only way was to listen to my fellow Agent. As I reluctantly went to bed, I wondered how I was going to sleep knowing that I possibly had to spend another night at Freddy's if I were to continue this investigation successfully.

Fortunately for me, that was not going to happen.

I awoke at approximately 15:00 pm with enough strength to get out of bed. While getting my clothes on, however, I thought about the dreams I had been bothered by during this nap. I could not recall much, other than blurred, incomplete images and a horrifying atmosphere, similar to the one at Freddy's. Had I not been so used to nightmares and frightening experiences, I may have been disturbed slightly by them.

In any case, the three of us decided to go to Afton's house without splitting up. This had a good reason: if only one of us would go, we would be in danger of getting killed by a homicidal maniac. Watts and I could go together, but leaving Schmidt may put his safety from Stone at risk. While this chance was not likely that Stone would find out about him helping us in an investigation, we did not feel like taking any chances: too many innocents had died in previous cases Watts and I had had.

* * *

It did not take long for us to reach Afton's house. The three of us hesitated, however, unsure of how we would be welcomed by the (former?) killer. After some uncomfortable silence, I grew tired of waiting, stepped forward and knocked on the door of the house in front of us.

The aforementioned silence grew even more uncomfortable after I did that. We waited for a while, hoping that Afton would eventually open the door. When nothing happened, I frowned and looked at the others.

Schmidt simply shrugged.

"I guess he's not home," Watts said, right when the door finally opened.

I looked back at it, and saw a man who seemed to be around seventy years old. He had a rather thin build, his silver hair was starting to fall off. However, his most striking feature was his eye color, which was an unusually intense purple.

Nothing indicated that this man had been responsible for murder. Aside from the eyes, he looked like an average elder. He did have a somewhat depressed look on his face, though.

"Mr. Afton?" I asked. "Mr. William Afton?"

The thin man gave me a questioning look, examining me from tip to toe. Despite the calmness in his eyes, I could sense a bit of fear. This felt familiar to me: not only did I ask many more people about some things in previous cases, this seemed somewhat similar to when I spoke to Schmidt for the first time. The main difference was that Afton – if this really was him – didn't try to slam the door on me.

"Who's asking?" he asked.

The usual routine: I showed him my FBI ID, explained about Freddy's and introduced him to Watts and Schmidt. I told him that Schmidt was an associate, careful not to reveal his connection to the restaurant. One would never know what kind of risks that would summon.

When I said I was from the FBI, Afton's eyes grew slightly warier. When Freddy's was brought up, the wariness turned into anxiety. I could easily tell: I may not be the oldest member of the Agency , but I had enough experience to detect hidden emotions during the majority of the time.

"You're…you're here to arrest me…?" he asked as I put the ID back into my pocket. "Is this about that case from '87?"

"We only want to ask you some questions," I replied. "May we come in?"

The man's anxiety only grew, despite my reassurance. He fully opened the door, however, silently inviting us to enter his house. We did so, and I was almost certain that I caught a glimpse of Schmidt shooting a glare at Afton.

"Take a seat," Afton muttered to us when we were in the living room. We hesitated slightly, but we did as we were told. The thin old man sat down across from us.

"Now…" he softly said. "What's going on, Agents?"

I heard Watts take a deep breath and saw in the corner of my eye that Schmidt had retained his glare towards the purple-eyed man. I, as always, remained unfazed, and made the decision that I'd be the most qualified of us three to begin the conversation.

"Mr. Afton…" I said. "Is it true that you were a murder suspect after what happened in 1987?"

Afton swallowed before answering. "Yes."

"But you were released due to insufficient evidence?"

"Yes."

"And you are aware that the case involving the dead children is yet to be solved?"

"W-well…they never caught the killer, did they?"

"True. However…" I leaned forward. "We have a witness who has given us another lead. And that lead interestingly brought us straight to you."

Afton's eyes widened. "Wh-what?"

"We have found new evidence through somewhat unconventional ways," I explained. "I can't give you any details, but-"

"You're arresting me…" the old man replied. His voice didn't sound angry or incredulous at all. If anything, it sounded rather…sad. Depressed.

Either way, I shook my head. "No. We simply need-"

"I killed them."

I blinked, momentarily flabbergasted by the sudden confession. Schmidt and Watts were about as surprised as I was, and did not really bother to keep it hidden. The silence that followed after Afton spoke was dark.

"Why?"

I looked to my right, where a pissed off Schmidt was giving Afton a dark look. His voice had anger in it, and the man himself seemed to only be able to _just_ refrain from throwing the child killer through the nearest window. Said child killer looked back with both fear and regret visible in his eyes.

I could not blame him. I may be ignorant about what had driven him to feel sorry for his crimes, but I was relieved that he felt anything at all. I couldn't help but feel disgust for this man myself, however; even if he was sorry, he still hid the information from the authorities.

Schmidt stood up, his face appearing as if his mind had been taken over by a firestorm. "You killed those children! You let those guards die! You've got blood on your hands you can't clean off! You lied to the police! And for what!?"

It was when the former guard took a step towards the frightened man that I intervened.

"Schmidt, sit down," I said in a calm yet stern tone. He ignored me as he continued his advance.

"Maybe we should fight it out!" he yelled as he took another step.

Afton was frozen in his seat, terrified of the approaching unstoppable force that was Michael Schmidt. He flinched and struggled when the man suddenly grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him out of his chair.

"Maybe we should stuff _you_ into one of them suits!" the former guard screamed in the older man's face.

I stood up and firmly grabbed Schmidt by his wrist with one hand.

"That's enough!" I warned. "Let him go and sit. Back. Down."

Attempting to free himself from my strong grip whilst still holding Afton proved to be difficult, and it was only when he put the purple man back into his chair that I let him go. His glare was still present, the only difference being that it was focused on _me_ now. Another silence fell, this one even more tense than any of the previous ones. Our staring competition lasted for about a minute before Schmidt walked back to the couch and sat down.

"I fail to see how killing or harming this man will help anybody," I calmly said. I then turned to Afton, who gave me a thankful look.

This did not alter my negative view on him, however. Little wonder for someone who kills five children for no apparent reason.

"Mr. Afton," I began. "I will get to the point: before we arrest you, you will help us with what we are attempting to do."

The old man's gaze turned fearful once more. "What…what do you mean?"

I opened my mouth, froze, and looked at the others. When they remained silent, I returned to the couch and sat down next to Watts. My gaze met Afton's confused one when I did so.

"The dead children are not as dead as you may think, sir," I calmly said. "These children were supposedly killed in a way that kept them from leaving this world as most deceased people do."

I explained to him how the children were able to roam the pizzeria at night through the animatronics. How the ghosts had lost their ability to forgive and reason, and mistook every night guard for the man who murdered them. How their limitless hunger for vengeance drove them to kill the night guard, thinking their actions were justified. And, finally, how Fazbear Entertainment kept the murders at night secret.

When I was done, the expression on the man's face was a mix of disbelief, sadness and anger. It was silent for a while, until he decided to speak up in a slow, threatening voice that sent chills down my spine.

"Look, _sir_ , I truly regret having done that all those years ago. I can't get it out of my head for one second. Even when I sleep, I think about those children and how I killed them." He leaned forward. "But I don't appreciate you trying to increase the weight on my mind. Did you really think that I'd believe a ghost story from some random guy?"

I remained silent as I kept looking at him with a serious face, quietly attempting to convince him that I wasn't playing around. As a result, a slight amount of worry mixed itself with Afton's rage, making him lean back in his seat.

Another silence.

"Y…you're being serious…?"

* * *

 **Sorry for the wait. School stuff and tiredness consumed my time.**

 **It's that kind of homework that makes me dread the prospect of going to college.**


	7. To have a plan

_Chapter seven: To have a plan_

 **18:00 pm**

After succeeding to convince Afton of the truth of our explanation – which took some time, might I add – the four of us returned to the hotel Watts and I were staying in. We did have to make sure Afton did not have any potential weapons, and we have put limitations to his freedom in the room to prevent him from getting one. Schmidt also got additional rules, as his world-ending rage may put Afton in harm's way. Our anticipations were not set on lethal violence, but it never hurts to be prepared, does it?

In any case, the main concept of our current plan was simple: allow Afton inside the building during my shift without the manager's knowledge. Since I had access to the keys for the doors, in any normal restaurants it should be relatively easy. Unfortunately for us, Freddy's was not a normal restaurant – especially at night.

My first plan was to smuggle Afton inside before the animatronics became active. However, since the day guard would likely still be present until mere minutes before 12:00 am, our window would be immensely small. We did not want to risk that.

Fortunately, Schmidt knew the layout of the restaurant, and apparently had to escape through air vents at times during his own shifts in order to stay alive. Opening the air vents was relatively simple: a screwdriver should do the trick. The main three animatronics could not fit inside due to their bulky suits, and even Foxy was only just able to do it – if the robot knew that there was a human in there in the first place.

In addition, there was an air shaft leading from the office directly to the outside.

While it was still risky, we agreed that Afton would use that very shaft to enter the building and show himself to the robots. If it worked, they should move on peacefully without harming anyone. If it only partially worked, the same result would happen, only with a dead Afton.

If it were to fail entirely for unknown and/or complicated reasons…then this would probably be my final case.

But that is a risk every member of the Agency needed to deal with on a regular basis.

* * *

 **Alright, so I deeply apologize for the extremely long wait and the extremely short chapter.**

 **I usually plan for each chapter what they will contain, and this one would be solely meant for the creation of a plan to let Afton infiltrate Freddy's.**

 **Anyway, the reason why I didn't update this was mainly because I had other stories to attend to, as well as something called 'activity week' at my school; a week where we spend the day doing certain instructive activities. It may sound like fun, but most activities are stupid and/or boring. Also, because I would be home later than usual, I had little time and little mental power to continue writing.**

 **LAST BUT NOT LEAST! In case I do not get the chance to do this later, I'd like to wish you all an early Happy New Year, as well as a late Merry Christmas!**

 **Kind regards,**

 **~F**


	8. Departure

**Sorry for the delay. The exam weeks have struck again, and I needed to study quite a bit.**

* * *

 _Chapter eight: Departure_

 **20:00 pm**

"I don't trust him," Schmidt growled. He and I were currently in the living room of the hotel. Afton was currently sleeping to prepare for his part of the plan, and Watts was going to examine the air shaft Schmidt mentioned to see how to open it. I was supposed to make sure that the two other men wouldn't be attacked, by each other or by Owen's lackeys.

I glanced back at him. "You don't say."

He glared in response before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Come on, you really think this guy just…got a change of heart? He killed five kids!"

"Such an action can create a great mental weight to haunt you. I do believe Mr. Afton has changed, and all he currently wants is redemption."

"Redemption?! He didn't even know these kids were vengeful ghosts until a few hours ago!"

"That hardly matters. Killing children is not something to be taken lightly. And please keep your voice down to prevent Mr. Afton from waking up."

Schmidt's glare intensified, but he remained silent for the following hours.

* * *

 **23:54 pm**

Attempting to keep my nervousness at bay, I walked through the doors of Freddy Fazbear's, once again wearing my guard uniform. The only other person who was present at the time was a janitor, who left with haste mere seconds after I entered, making me wonder if the other employees also knew about the case involving dead night guards.

Putting that idea in the back of my mind for it to be brought up to Watts later, I once again made my way to the office. This time, however, I did not sit down immediately. Instead, I went to the air vent Schmidt had spoken of, which was located directly behind my chair. It was not the most spacious entrance, but a thin man such as Afton should be able to fit through it.

Grabbing a screwdriver from my pocket, I swiftly removed the screws that blocked off the shaft, while continuously keeping an eye on my watch to make sure I would not be a sitting duck for the robots; they would activate near twelve.

According to our plan, Afton was currently doing the same on the other side of the shaft, out in the open. We did not have sufficient time to think of something to keep him from being seen, as it would likely appear as an attempt to trespass. The only thing we could do was allow Watts to come with him; if someone were to approach them, she would reveal her status as a Special Agent.

It was exactly 12:00 am when Afton entered the office. Once I realized this, I hastily sat down and checked the cameras while the older man quickly closed the vent again. Watts would take care of the other side.

I was shocked to see the stage completely empty, and the curtains at Pirate Cove were open.

With incredible speed, I closed both doors in the office; right as something seemed to smash itself against the one leading to the West Hallway, causing us both to jump. Barely a second later, the other door was knocked on.

"They're here," I commented. I was unsure as to whether my hidden fear was actually noticeable in my voice, but I doubted Afton heard it, as he was obviously too busy being terrified himself.

I looked at him, and saw that he was done sealing the vent. Currently, he was simply standing behind me, not knowing what to do.

A dark whisper could be heard from my left.

"Af…ton…"

A low, guttural growl from the right.

"Afton."

Knowing that turning on the door lights would waste power, I grabbed my flashlight from my belt, turned it on and aimed it at the right window.

Freddy Fazbear stood at the other side with a dead, soulless glare directed at Afton. The bear's eyes had turned black with only its white pinprick endoskeleton eyes visible. Its jaw was wide open and askew.

I turned back to Afton. "What are you waiting for?" I impatiently hissed. "Talk to them!"

The older man gave another fearful look before swallowing and nodding. He then walked towards the right window and looked Freddy in the eyes.

"Uh…hey…is that you, Rhys?"

The animatronics fell silent.

"That was your name, wasn't it?" Afton continued. "Rhys Harvey?"

Freddy's eyes turned back to their normal versions, but the lack of emotion still remained on its face. The anger had made place for a conflicted and confused expression, or at least that is what I believed it was supposed to represent. It was difficult to tell emotion on a robot.

Afton then adjusted his gaze and looked at something to Freddy's left, right behind the door.

"And…Anne?"

So he remembered the names of his victims, and to which robot each victim was bound. How? Did he hide their bodies in there?

I subconsciously clenched my fist. If that was the case, the bodies could not have been hidden for such a long time without Fazbear Entertainment finding out about them. And yet, the company never informed anyone that the missing children had been recovered? How long had the victims' parents been sitting in uncertainty because they were unsure as to whether their son or daughter was dead or not? Stone was going to _suffer_ the retribution that justice stood for.

"Guys, I, ah…an apology's not enough, is it?" Afton sadly assumed. "Maybe—"

He was unable to finish his sentence as Freddy suddenly smashed its mechanical paw against the window, creating a crack in it and scaring Afton into backing away.

"Afton!" the growl angrily called from its artificial throat. "AFTON!"

The robots resumed their knocking on both sides of the office, although it had become more like assaulting than knocking. This was a major issue, as hitting the doors leads to a substantial decrease in power. I briefly checked the tablet to see how much we had left of it, and I noticed to my absolute horror that it had been lowered to 69% already.

The four different voices from the animatronics kept saying Afton's name in their own horrifying ways. Anger and fear were present in them, as well as general ghostly eeriness.

"Keep talking!" I hissed.

"They're not listening—"

"Just do it!"

Afton hesitated, nodded and quickly stood up to face the robots again.

"I'm sorry!" he called through the window. "Please, don't do this! I changed for the better, please give me a chance! I never wanted _this_ to happen!" His shoulders drooped. "But if killing me is the only way to convince you to move on…I won't stop you."

A silence fell when he said that, much to my amazement. Apparently, the ghosts fully understood what he said. I had expected them to continue trying to break into the office, but I underestimated their level of intelligence.

My admiration was short-lived however, when Afton suddenly opened the right door, leaving us to the mercy of the animatronics that entered in the process.

"What are you doing!?" I hissed as I jumped off my chair.

The older man did not answer, instead looking directly at Bonnie and Foxy. The two robots simply stared back, not moving or making any noise whatsoever. Though, something in their artificial eyes seemed like calmness…inducing me with an uncertain tranquility as they continued to have their staring contest.

I was frozen.


	9. Report

_Chapter nine: Report_

 **PARTICIPANTS IN THE FAZBEAR KILLINGS CASE**

 **Special Agent Bryan Roth** (see file for more information)

 **Special Agent Amelia Watts** (see file for more information)

 **Agent Bob Gardner** (see file for more information)

 **William Afton (a.k.a. Dave Miller)** is the killer of the five children in the Missing Children Incident (q.v.), another dark part of Freddy Fazbear's history. Due to insufficient evidence, he managed to evade justice, after which he changed his name into Dave Miller in an attempt to stay hidden.

 **Michael 'Mike' Schmidt** was a night guard at Freddy Fazbear's for a week before being relieved from duty on the counts of 'tampering with the animatronics', 'general unprofessionalism' and 'odor'. Immediately after his dismissal, he made a brief attempt to investigate the odd occurrences surrounding the restaurant before being blackmailed into ending his quest. A recruitment offer from the Agency has been requested by Agent Roth.

 **Owen Stone** was the manager of Fazbear's and the one responsible for having evidence about the killings hidden away. All Fazbear Entertainment personnel are currently being investigated to find out who was accessary to Stone's actions and who wasn't.

 **Rhys Harvey, Benjamin Fulton, Anne Martin, Oliver Houghton, Chris Garcia** are the five victims of the Missing Children Incident who came back as ghosts to haunt the iconic animatronics of Fazbear's.

 **Several other staff members of Fazbear's** are being investigated as stated before.

* * *

 **THE FOLLOWING IS A DESCRIPTION OF THE FAZBEAR KILLINGS CASE AS REPORTED BY SPECIAL AGENT BRYAN ROTH**

Along with Special Agent Amelia Watts, I had been assigned to investigate the dark rumors surrounding Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, a restaurant for children to enjoy both food and the performances of three (formerly four) animatronics (see the Fazbear Gang) that were suspected to be responsible for abducting and possibly killing the night guards of the place. We were given possible clues as to what had caused these murders, but there was no solid evidence that pointed us to the robots. Due to the strong implications made, however, I made it my job to infiltrate the restaurant.

I applied to the night guard position where I quickly learned that the animatronics were very much active after hours, as they relentlessly attempted to break into my office for reasons unknown. An unidentified instructor had left me messages on the phone that was present, and claimed that the robots would mistake me for an endoskeleton with no suit, prompting them to put me into one; an experience I would not survive (see the inside structure of Fazbear animatronic suits).

While using a mini camera to gather evidence (see the footage at Fazbear's) to use against Stone, I managed to keep myself alive during the event. When I returned to the hotel Agent Watts and I were staying in, she revealed that she herself had gotten data directly from Stone's computer with Agent Gardner's assistance, leading us to Michael Schmidt. We immediately went to find answers from him, which he gave us by informing us of Afton's involvement as well as the confused state of mind the ghosts of the children were cursed with.

Note: Agent Watts went to gain information from Stone, but this was unsuccessful.

After once again being assisted by Agent Gardner, we soon found Afton's location. We informed him about the children's inability to fully die, after which he became willing to help us end the chain of murders the restaurant was responsible for. During my second night as a guard, we managed to get Afton inside without being noticed, and his regrets were enough to allow the ghosts to move on to the afterlife. We then offered him a pardon, but he refused and confessed his crimes at the local PD. His claims are currently being investigated.

Agent Watts and I then went to arrest Stone, who will be charged for the countless homicides the ghosts committed. The footage I gained at Fazbear's will be fully available as evidence once the trial starts.

* * *

 **Update: to whoever's reading this now, I'm sorry for such a shitty and sudden ending. This isn't my best story, and my motivation for writing it was pretty much depleted. I just wanted it to end so that I could move on to other stories that I'm more passionate about.**

 **I apologize for not leaving this author's note earlier: that was indecent of me as well. And I'm sorry for not writing how the ghosts moved on, how Stone was arrested and how Afton turned himself in. I just didn't know how to write those things.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story regardless. Have a nice day/night.**

 **~F**


End file.
